


Tell Him

by dwarrowdams



Series: Rogues Do It From Behind [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, M/M, the title is what I scream at Gilan for the entire last half of the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwarrowdams/pseuds/dwarrowdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilan gets a nudge of encouragement to tell Zevran how he feels.  Set right after "So Close."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Him

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on Tumblr (under the same username). It's set immediately after "So Close" and involves Tirzah Aeducan (my other canon Warden) encouraging Gilan to go and talk with Zevran about his feelings, since he failed rather dismally last time. Enjoy and leave feedback if you so wish!

It was a fine earring.

Gilan frowned, turning it over and over in his fingers.  It truly was a remarkable piece of craftsmanship, but he still wasn’t sure what Zevran had meant by it.  The elf had claimed that it was no more than a gift of thanks, but his tone had betrayed him.  He’d spoken almost haltingly, as if he were holding something back.

He hoped that this was a sign that Zevran was as confused by their relationship as he was—perhaps even a sign that he wanted their relationship to become about more than sex.  But of course all that might be no more than wishful thinking.

Gilan knew his own heart all too well, of course.  He’d given up on trying to convince himself that he wasn’t in love with Zevran.  He had been exceedingly careful not to reveal his feelings, but it had grown difficult to pretend that his feelings hadn’t changed.  It was difficult to act as though their relationship was only surface-level when Gilan had spent the past few months discovering just how deep his feelings for the elf went.

“You look awfully pensive tonight.”

Gilan looked up at the sound of Tirzah’s voice.  “You could say that,” he said.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked as she settled down beside him.

Gilan shrugged.  “It can’t hurt,” he said.  

She smiled.  “It certainly can’t.  Anything specific you wanted to say?”

“Zev just gave me this,” he said, showing her the earring.

Tirzah examined it closely.  “It’s lovely,” she said.  “Clearly not of dwarven make, but still fine enough.  Did he give it to you for any particular reason?”

“He said it was his way of thanking me from getting Taliesin out of his hair,” Gilan said.

“Is this something that surfacers usually do?”

“It depends,” Gilan said.  “You might give someone something like this to anyone on a special occasion, but out of the blue like this?  It usually means something more than a simple thanks.”

Tirzah’s eyes widened.  “Do you think this is his way of telling you he loves you?”

Gilan sighed deeply.  “I want to think so,” he confessed.  “But this might be the exception, not the rule, and I don’t want to assume something that’s not true.”

“For your sake, I want to think so too,” Tirzah admitted.  “You’ll never know if you keep quiet about it, though.  I know it’s not easy for you, but start somewhere.  It doesn’t even have to be love; just ask him about your relationship or how he feels…whatever you need to do.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he said.  “But I can’t.  I just…I can’t.”

“Gil, I’ve seen you kill hundreds of darkspawn.  You can talk your way into or out of any fight you want.  You’ve seen…horrible things and lived through them and you still manage to smile at the end of the day.  Believe me, if you can do all that, you can walk up to Zevran and talk about how you feel.”

“Killing darkspawn doesn’t put my relationships in jeopardy.”

Tirzah sighed.  “Ancestors help me, Gilan, if I didn’t care about you so much, I would have given up on this weeks ago,” she muttered.  “You’ve slept less and less these past few weeks.  Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve always had problems sleeping,” Gilan said.  “Before I met Zev.  Before the Joining.  It comes and goes.”

“Funny that it decided to come right around the time you told me you were falling in love with Zevran.”

Gilan leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.  She had a point, of course.  He had been spending less time sleeping and more worrying about whether or not Zevran was aware of his growing feelings.  And he was tired of it, so tired of pretending that he wasn’t in love, that his heart didn’t sputter whenever he made Zevran smile, that he didn’t think about what his future would look like if he shared it with Zevran.

He wanted to say something…but the thought of losing Zevran because of it had been enough to keep Gilan silent for months.

“I don’t know,” he said, lifting his head up and running his hands through his hair.  “I just…I’m not ready.”

“Come on, Gil,” she said, her voice gentle.  “You don’t have to do it all tonight.  Just talk to him and see if anything feels different.  You’re good at knowing how people feel without them telling you anything.”

“So are you.”

“That’s because I watch people.  You just look at people and figure it out.”

“Are you stroking my ego to get me to do what you want?”

“Is it working?”

“A little.”

“Good.”

Gilan stood, brushing himself off as he turned towards Zevran.  “You win this time,” he said to Tirzah.  “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” she murmured as he walked away.

As he approached Zevran, he felt his hands start to shake.  He gripped his thighs to hide it, hoping that Zevran wouldn’t notice.  “Hey,” he said once he was within earshot of the elf.  “Do you have a minute?”

Zevran smiled.  “For you?  Of course.”

Gilan took a deep breath.  He thought about the earring, about everything that had happened today, struggling to form some sort of coherent question or comment, but the words stuck in his throat.  He stood there for a moment, looking more than a little foolish before he said, “Care to join me in my tent?”

Zevran stood in front of him, unmoving for a moment before he turned his gaze towards the ground.  “No, I…no,” he said.  “I mean no offense, I simply—no.”

Out of all the things he’d expected to hear Zevran say tonight, this was certainly not one of them.  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

It was a silly question.  He didn’t need Zevran to respond; he  _knew_  that something was wrong.

Zevran sighed.  “I do not wish to talk about it,” he said.

“All right,” Gilan said.  “Then I’ll leave you alone.  Good night.”

He didn’t wait for the elf’s response before turning and walking towards his tent, unable to shake the feeling that he’d somehow made this mess worse.


End file.
